The Personal and the Political

As a contributor to the Seattle P-I website, I try to balance hard-hitting political rants with slice-of-life drolleries; sometimes my readers even know which is which. But lately it’s become difficult to separate the two: How can you comment on the likes of Herman Cain or Newt Gingrich without dipping into both pools?

A word about Herman Cain: I’m uncomfortable with how both the reputable and the disreputable press have responded to the allegations by several women from his past. First, I’d like to see some real evidence backing up the claims (Anthony Weiner-type photos would be good); and second, even if the claims were true, they’d be the least of the reasons people should not support this man. I mean, really, dogma aside, shouldn’t the president of the United States have at least a rudimentary grasp of current events?

As far as Newt Gingrich goes, I’m glad to see someone smart on the Republican stump. On the other hand, I view his stances on social and foreign policies as to the right of the Visigoths, and I don’t mean that as a compliment. Were the Newtster to be elected, I believe we would all be in great danger.

But enough of droll rants: The issue of the day remains the economy. There’s a deep divide in Congress—if not the country—over whom to tax and how much to tax them so we can both repay our debt and fulfill our social obligations. Now, to me, this isn’t that difficult a problem. Asking people to take a slight tax hike—rather, a return not quite to levels before the Bush tax cuts—on money they earn only after a million dollars does not seem to me to be asking a lot. I honestly don’t see these people being hurt so much that they refuse to “create jobs.” After all, it’s not like they’ve been creating jobs with all that money.

But a lot more goes into economic policy votes than economics. There’s the mythical party base to consider (the Tea Party, not the frat boys). There’s that nasty pledge Republicans signed not to raise taxes of any kind whatsoever, upon penalty of, uh, I don’t know, being lambasted on the Fox network or something equally horrible. And there’s also—this isn’t reported much—the psychosocial dynamics that occur between members of Congress.

Think about it, and I’m asking you to think about it from the perspective of a traditional, testosterone-fueled male who’s risen to power and has for most of his adult life been sucked up to by sycophants and sincere admirers alike: If I’ve publicly maintained an all-or-nothing position on taxes, or immigration, or abortion, or health care, and I’ve cultivated an image of acting only on principle, when suddenly I realize that it’s really better for the country if I compromise on at least one of these issues, how will I be perceived by my opponents in Congress? Well, you know the answer: I’ll be perceived publicly as someone who put the country first, but I’ll be perceived privately as a loser. And which is more important to me?

This cannot be shrugged away. Do you remember in high school, when your main social goal every day was to make it to 3:00 without looking like a fool? Members of Congress act that way even as you read this. Even if they did want to do what was right for the country, they don’t want to look like a fool. They don’t want to cross what they’ve told themselves was their bottom line in front of their colleagues, because that would mean they were weak. And even worse: That would mean they’d be weak in future negotiations.

So, what do we do about all this? Elect pragmatists like Mitt Romney? Of course, I’d maintain that we have a supreme pragmatist in office right now. But voters don’t want pragmatists; they want people who will man the barricades against the infidels, and of course that’s part of the bigger problem. The Testosteronies reflect the wishes of their constituencies, even—brace yourselves—their female constituencies: not necessarily in the policies they endorse but in the vigor with which they endorse them.

What we do about all this is what I continually push for: educating the pubic. The wise legislator knows when to stick to principles and when to search for compromises that at least keep the principles on life support. And the voters need to recognize the necessity of such wisdom. We don’t—theoretically—live under an autocracy; our political system guarantees that many people will be quite often pissed off (That’s not a textbook definition of democracy, but it could be, depending on the publisher). If you haven’t been pissed off, then you’re really not paying attention.

So, the next time you look with disdain on the Congressional inability to, say, decide when to have lunch (“If Obama wants us to adjourn at noon, we’ll do it at 12:30. Hah!”), think about all those poor Senators and Representatives who are fighting their insecurities, their high school demons, their parents’ subtle messages of disappointment. Think about the utter hell they endure when they ponder whether to compromise. Think about the satisfaction they reap when they stick to their position regardless of the consequences to the country.